She caught her breathand stopped dead. The walls and ceiling were covered in mirrors. Silver and black were the predominatingtones. At one end of the room a large bed with an elaborate wooden headboard.On the other side, a chest of drawers, on the top of which were arranged objectswhich gave the impression of something between an altar and a bazar stall.Several riding crops... chains... cuffs and belts... small clamps, weights...candles, a large stainless steel dildo standing proudly next to a row of butt-plugs. Cynthia gulped, feeling the colour rise to her cheeks. ?Oh my goodness!? sheturned round to look at Damien. ?You... er... USE all this stuff?? ?Maybe not each night, or, all at the same time, but, you surely guess I do." She looked at him, eyes wide open, feeling her pulse rise. She quickly drewher glass up and swallowed the rest of her drink, burning down her throat. ?Ithink... I might better... be on my way, Damien...? ?...and I can tell it isn't just only scaring you." He. " I doubt it." Would you bet on it?"I was a little worried. I already had her hair, and she'd even gotten me in women's underwear and I'm standing there in flared women's jeans. "What stakes?" Well, if you try to pass, and it doesn't work, I'll do whatever you say for a week. If it works, you'll do whatever I say for a week. Sound okay?"That didn't seem too bad. I would do anything she told me anyway. "It's a bet," I said, and immediately started wondering if I'd made a big mistake. She drove me to her house, and she immediately set to work on me. She grabbed one of her dresses, a beautiful green one. It would show a little cleavage, which I didn't have, so I was starting to worry about being embarrassed in public later. At least the skirt of it was a little loose, and a far cry from a miniskirt. She found matching shoes, a handbag, and some ear rings, and laid them out on her bed."Go strip," she told me, and I complied. She pulled me into the bathroom, and broke out the Nair. "No.
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